


The Fight That Goes On Inside Your Head

by neilegni



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neilegni/pseuds/neilegni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with the way he drums on the steering wheel when he sings along to the radio and gradually Pam begins to notice more little things that bother her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fight That Goes On Inside Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> I got The Office dvds for my birthday, but unfortunately, those do not come with character ownership rights. So unless I get the characters for my birthday this year they do not belong to me.

It starts with the way he drums on the steering wheel when he sings along to the radio and gradually Pam begins to notice more little things that bother her. He never does his own dishes. He leaves his wet towel on the floor. He talks with his mouth full. He holds her too tightly at night and not enough during the day. His jokes are crude. He makes fun of her. These petty habits make it slightly easier for her to leave this life behind.

She's not afraid to tell Roy that she wants out. She knows what she's going to say. She's planned it out in her head, written it out, said it aloud when he isn't around to hear. She's not afraid of the reaction. She has planned out what she will do if he starts to yell. She will not yell back. She will get her things and leave. Pam likes her thoughts and plans organized. It makes her feel safe to know how to get from point A to point B to point C.

No, she isn't afraid to tell him and she isn't afraid to leave, but she can't seem to find the right time.

\--

Her jaw is sore and she realizes that she has been clenching it involuntarily. She makes a point to relax and for the first time feels the tension in her shoulders, her back and in her jaw, which still feels tense. She rubs her face and rolls her shoulders. The clock on the wall of the office only reads 1:17. The days have been passing more slowly. Work has been harder lately. Though it's the same monotony as before, nine hours of tedious paperwork and answering phones, it's getting progressively harder to make it though the day. There's a dull ache in her chest that she can't shake. Whenever she looks up and sees the empty desk in front of her it gets a little harder to take a breath.

She pushes open the door to the breakroom with the intent of buying gum from the vending machine to keep her jaw busy. The chatter hits her ear and the ache becomes more of a stab. She turns and walks right back out.

She doesn't like to enter the break room and overhear a conversation about Jim.

\--

The wedding draws closer and she still hasn't given Roy her farewell address. He sits in their living room watching television as she finishes washing the dishes. She knows that tonight will be the night, but the nerves that she vowed would not overtake her, are fluttering in her stomach.

Pull your act together, Beesly, she thinks to herself in a voice that is not entirely her own. She can picture his smirk as she hears the words. But hearing his voice in her head makes her feel like a lunatic. She wants to pretend that Jim has no part in this decision. She is making this choice by herself, for herself. It's the first thing that she has done on her own. With grit and determination coursing through her blood, she walks to the living room.

Her strong, powerful gait is lost the moment she passes through the kitchen doorway

"Hey baby, do we have anymore beer?" Roy asks. The blue light bathes his face.

She resumes her role as Pam Beesly Always Almost Anderson, the timid, quiet and shy receptionist whose soft shuffle reflects her personality flawlessly.

But Pam knows better. She knows that she is capable of being strong and brave. She knows that she is not just a mousy receptionist. She's a grown woman who knows what she wants and what she doesn't want and hell, she is determined to listen to what her heart as been screaming at her to do.

"Roy, I…" Her carefully practiced words get stuck in her throat. She clears her throat and tries to start again. "Roy, I need to talk."

"Can it wait? The game's almost over." He doesn't take his eyes off of the screen.

She almost says yes. She's so close to giving in, but she's not going to take that route.

"No. It can't. I need to talk to you right now," she says in a voice that, to her ears, doesn't sound like her own. She buckles her knees to keep them from shaking.

Roy shuts off the TV and turns to look at Pam. His puzzled expression makes her feel slightly guilty about what she is about to do.

"Roy, I can't marry you." She feels a weight being lifted from her shoulders. She can't read Roy's face and that scares her.

"You what?"

"I have to leave. I can't marry you. I'm sorry." She's stunned by how calm she sounds, though she can hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Roy sits silently for a moment and then rises slowly.

"This is that little fucker Halpert's fault, isn't it?" He thunders.

"Leave Jim out of this." Her voice is strong, even as she twists her ring nervously around her finger. "I have to go, Roy."

"What the hell do you think you're doing? The wedding is a week away. Everything is already paid for. Do you understand? Do you know what you're wasting?"

"Yes." She walks out of the room and comes back with two suitcases, already packed and waiting for this day. "I'm sorry, Roy, but this is what I have to do." She would kiss him on the cheek or hug him, but he's fuming and she doesn't want to get in his way. She keeps her eyes on the carpet as she gets her coat, opens the door and leaves the cramped apartment behind. She doesn't look up until she's down the hallway and at the stairs.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath and feels strong for a moment. The moment crumbles as she feels--everything. The pressure of the wedding. The nine years she has spent with this man. The simple way she gave it all up. The knots of pressure build up behind her eyes and she tries to avoid the sting of tears, blinking them away. The floor feels slanted and she leans against the wall for support. She really needs her best friend right now, but she has no idea where the hell he is.

She puts her bags in the small, beat up car that she hardly ever uses and lets herself in on the driver's side. Once the doors are closed and locked she lets the tears fall as the emotions become simply too much.

Yes, part of her feels victorious. She's won. She's out. She won't become Mrs. Roy Anderson.

But she didn't expect to feel such a fierce loss. She's on her own for the first time. She had moved from her parent's home to Roy's when she was younger. This was new and Pam isn't really one for change.

Then the change hits her. Her life is going to be completely different from now on. Every pattern she has, every schedule she is used to, every habit she has developed will be altered.

\--

She spends the weekend apartment hunting, spending all day on her feet and collapsing at night on the generic floral pattern of the Holiday Inn comforter. She finally finds a good one on Sunday afternoon. It's smaller than her old place and smells a little off, but it's a good price and has a good view. Her definition of a "good view" being: not a brick wall. The apartment happens to be in Jim's old neighborhood. She doesn't realize this until she's signed the lease.

The next day she enters her new place with a suitcase in each hand. Staring around the small, bare apartment, she realizes just how empty it is. The walls are a dingy off-white; the floors are scuffed linoleum, old, beige carpeting, not the most welcoming colours. The place needs to be filled. It needs to feel like a home.

She's very grateful to her mother at this point, who had encouraged her to put half of all of her Christmas and birthday money into a savings account as a child. That extra cash comes in handy as she buys new furniture for her new apartment; the setting of her new life. It's mostly second hand stuff, but it will do until she has enough of her own income to spend on the good stuff.

\--

She calls Roy that evening from her cell phone. No answer from the other end, so she leaves a message.

Hey, you've reached Roy and Pam. We're not here right now, so please leave a message.

She feels a little sick thinking about the night that they recorded that message. They had just moved in together and were so excited to spend the rest of their lives together.

Beep

"Um…hey Roy, it's me, Pam. Um yeah, I need to come over and get some of my stuff. I'll come by tomorrow. Thanks…erm. Bye."

Her heart is racing and the room is spinning and she throws up in her new toilet.

This is a lot harder than she expected.

\--

She takes Monday off and plans to go get her things while Roy is at work. She doesn't want to face him right now. Her bravery and tenacity has wavered and left her feeling ashamed and alone.

She waits until 11 and then heads over to her old apartment. She has several cardboard boxes in her trunk waiting to be filled. She lets herself in and is relieved to find that the apartment is empty, though much messier than it was when she left. She packs her books, art supplies, cds, clothes, anything that she thinks she will need.

The green teapot is still in its box on the top shelf in her closet. She hasn't used it, but has kept the box hidden. She's afraid that Roy will find it and break it if he knew it was from Jim.

She removes the teapot from its package and takes off the top, sifting the contents through her fingers. She remembers each joke, each story that goes behind each artifact. She looks at his high school yearbook photo and thinks of sitting on his bed and feeling safe, happy and slightly buzzed. Seeing his face, even 10 years younger, makes the pain of his absence more profound.

She knows it was because of her that he had to leave, she had always known. She knows that his vacation was timed to coincide with her wedding on purpose. She knows that she will probably never see him again, but that fact is the one that hurts the most.

She places the teapot back in its box and the box inside her final cardboard box. It takes her three trips to load everything into her car and even after all of the boxes are loaded up, she feels like she's forgetting something. She checks the apartment one last time for anything that she may have missed. She contemplates leaving a note, but realizes that she doesn't have anything to say. She takes off her ring and leaves it on the table. She has nothing else to do with it.

At the last moment she scribbles I'm so sorry, on a sheet of paper and lays it next to the sparkling ring that has had a place on her finger for the past 3 years.

\--

"Ohmigod, so I have the CUTEST dress picked out for your wedding! It's pink and sparkly and ohmigod I got cute little strappy sandals and it's gonna be so cute!" Kelly gushes, leaning over the reception desk the next day. Pam is starting to think that Michael's lack of tact is contagious, that or Kelly really doesn't notice the grimace that feels permanently etched on her face. She attempts to smile and nod along. The would-be wedding is less than a week away. No one has any idea that it's been cancelled. She's barely accepted that the wedding that she has been pouring all her energy into planning will not happen. She feels a rush of irresponsibility for running away so close to the date.

"So, what does your dress look like? I bet it's sooo pretty! Like, really simple but really elegant, right?"

It takes all of her willpower to keep her emotions in line, rather than take them out on Kelly.

She knows that she's in trouble when Michael steps out of his office with a garter twirling around his finger.

"Pamster! Finally getting hitched," He announces, slinging the garter onto her desk. He misses and hits Dwight in the back of the head. He saunters over to her desk. "Now Pam, I know how intimidating it can be to be with a man…well, not personally, but as a strong male figure in your life, I think it's my duty to talk to you about your wedding night."

"Michael. No."

"Now, you may be really worried that he'll find out that you aren't a virgin, but that's okay. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially with a rack like that. Wowzers."

She hates working here sometimes. She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Pam, where's your ring?" Kelly asks. Pam had forgotten that Kelly was practically attached to her desk.

"Oh…um, Roy and I kind of…split up."

"Oh. My. God. When did this happen?! Tell me everything," She exclaims, brown eyes wide with concern.

"This weekend. I don't really want to talk about it right n--"

"DID YOU HEAR THAT, EVERYONE? RETURN YOUR WEDDING GIFTS, THERE WILL BE NO CEREMONY THIS WEEKEND. PAM CALLED IT OFF."

Eyes of sympathy, concern and frustration (courtesy of Stanley) are cast her way.

Her cheeks are flaming with embarrassment. She wishes that the floor would swallow her up. She would like to die now.

\--

Her first thought on Saturday morning is that garbage pick-up is that afternoon. Her second thought is that she is supposed to get married today, but she will not be slipping into her simply elegant or elegantly simple dress and she will not be walking down the aisle with her father. She will not be posing for endless photographs and she will not have a husband at the end of the day. She cries then, short bursts of sobs whose true cause is unknown. She doesn't miss Roy. She doesn't miss the life that she had or the life that she would get with her marriage.

She sighs and resigns to pull herself together and steps into the shower.

Under the hot spray she lets her mind wander back to the night outside in the parking lot, when she finally heard what she had expected for so long. She remembers calling her mother. She lets herself remember Jim walking into the office and taking her into his arms. She lets herself remember the feel of his hands on her skin; the sensation of his stubble against her fingertips; the ease with which she fell into the embrace and the amount of difficulty it took to break away. It reminds her of waking up early on a cold, winter morning-- so easy to fall right back into bed and remain happy and warm, but knowing that those first few steps are the hardest, but most necessary for facing the day.

She's out of bed and after moving around a bit, it's not as bad as she thought it would be.

She grabs clothes out of the cardboard boxes littering her floor. She has barely started unpacking. Her second hand dresser remains empty.

The teapot, however, lives on her kitchen counter. The artifacts inside reside in her bedside table, not because she's hiding them, but because she now uses the teapot out in the open. Nothing is stopping her. No fear that it will be broken in a fit of jealousy, no worry that it will spark an argument. She doesn't have to worry about these things anymore.

She grabs her sketchbook and pencils and begins drawing out her new life with a smile on her face.


End file.
